Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Supreme, artist - Rick Ross. Date of issue: 31.12.2013
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Supreme |
| I just left the New United States, embassy |
| Somewhere in Georgia it’s 109 rooms |
| I saw 30 bitches and 30 rooms and I was on the wrong side of the house4 |
| Anytime me and Scott Scorch get together you gotta call this the Iluminati |
| Whenever you see the G it represents God and geometry |
| That’s what the extensive for |
| I’m a tell you never be with them |
| Nah, I’m just fuckin' with you |
| Aye, Scott, I’m just fuckin' with you, baby |
| Yo |
| Speeding in the Ghost on the phone with jewlers |
| My new bitch out of D.C., call me Ricky the Ruler |
| Gotta gather my concentration while counting my stacks |
| I got eight car notes and just lost me a pack |
| On the beach, I’m up and down, women jocking my ride |
| 300 horses in this bitch, need a jockey inside |
| False floors for firearms is how you should ride |
| Tried to murder me while in mine so that’s how I survived |
| My deal with Def Jam just set me for life |
| Wanted to chapel the the BM, man, I’m just rolling the dice |
| Big numbers, I’m John Wall, I’m balling tonight |
| Just joking, my sense of humor is like one of a kind |
| Got them gangstes who on my line that’ll blow out your mind |
| Got them gangstes who on my line that’ll blow out your mind |
| Got them gangstes who on my line that’ll blow out your mind |
| Got them gangstes who on my line that’ll blow out your mind |
| Tell me it’s real |
| Tell me this is real, baby |
| How does it feel? |
| How does it feel? |
| Liberace on riches and bitch |
| Charm ciy boys get a whole city of brick |
| Through the wire we wetting niggas, set the shit on fire |
| My bitch smiling I wanna bet, now we on fishing isle |
| Peddle mari- with Tony Jacob, BK’s full of paper |
| Made a killing on Martin Luther, James Earl the shooter |
| My niggas, we grew apart, they joined the rival gang |
| Caught them slipping, gave them a pass throwing pistols at surviving gang |
| Next time boss gotta turn his back on 'em |
| Letting young boys (brrrrat) on 'em |
| Facts, never find me with the fake look |
| Trapping little Davis, bitch, just take me to the cakebook |
| Black bottles, boy, that’s how our case of ace look |
| You cheating on me, hitting homie, nigga, Facebook |
| She hitting on me than a motherfucking Facebook |
| Tell me it’s real, I wanna know |
| How does it feel, yeah, how does it feel? |
| Clean-made diaper, you filthy as shit |
| They partitioning for the women, how busy we get |
| From the scotch, the large mop, bet the linking feel |
| It’s all a dream and never wake me up until it’s real |
| Duffle bags, that’s for the homie when he coming home |
| He never told and he never used the telephone |
| He on swole and that nigga need a telephone |
| In a Range Rover and a real nigga got it for him |
| You wanna know how does it feel |
| I know, I bet it must feel so real |
| Tell me it’s real, I wanna know |
| How does it feel to be so real= |
| You know when hanging with billion dollar niggas |
| One of the perks is getting to meet all these billion dollar bitches |
| I just met a bitch who never gets jetlag |
| I spent 10 thousand dollars on her best bag |
| You underdig that |